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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27531631">兄弟，無所謂</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/singasongofus/pseuds/eightisms'>eightisms (singasongofus)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SEVENTEEN (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>But like also, Canon Compliant, Filial Piety, Found Family, Gen, Xu Ming Hao | The8-centric, the ocean as a metaphor for... something</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 06:46:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>724</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27531631</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/singasongofus/pseuds/eightisms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The preciousness of destiny is that it cannot be reversed.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Challenge 4: Non-AU</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>兄弟，無所謂</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title and summary are from jun + minghao's ost 《兄弟一回》 (brothers for one time)</p><p>disclaimer: i'm generally very uncomfortable with writing canon compliant fic for idols which is why i chose to write gen for this round ! this is not meant to be romantic and if it seems homoerotic that's because i'm a lesbian and i have Tenderness Disease</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Minghao does not know Yao Mingming, because he joined the company just after Mingming left. Still, it’s disconcerting, to be in this room with him, mentor to a boy who would have been 2 years his senior in experience. Here, he is closer to Tsai Yilin (!!) than the trainees his own age; it makes him feel proud and uncertain in equal measure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>4 years after debut, sometimes he still feels like a little kid, alone and out of his depth in a strange foreign city. He’s in his home country now, speaking his mother tongue, but the feeling persists like an ache behind his ribcage. Just as he did back then, he turns to Junhui. It’s always been like this; Minghao dives headfirst into the freezing ocean, and Junhui sails out to meet him, little lantern over the black waves. Junhui is simultaneously boat and sea.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Xiaoba,” says Jun, “have you eaten?” his voice comes out distorted through the phone, set to loudspeaker on the counter of the hotel kitchenette.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Minghao replies. He hasn’t, actually, but he will spare Junhui the trouble of worrying over him any more than necessary.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How are your little students? Anyone talented?” There’s a lot of background noise on Junhui’s end, little snippets of conversation filtering through. Minghao wonders if he’s out to dinner; Korea is an hour ahead, but Junhui likes to eat late. He suddenly feels homesick, even though this is the closest he’s been to his hometown in years.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minghao sighs, trying for annoyed and coming out closer to apprehensive. “A lot of them are older than me. More experienced.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Junhui huffs a little laugh into the phone; it comes out sounding strange and crackly on Minghao’s end. “I heard I have a friend over there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minghao, quite frankly, does not care what Yao Mingming thinks of him, outside of things like “a good dance mentor” and “strict but kind”. But he does care-- very deeply and absolutely less secretly than he would like-- about what Junhui thinks of him. And Junhui, for his part, has the singular skill of seeing right the fuck through him, monsoon winds and raging seas be damned. Minghao wants to credit it to years of shared space, shared experiences, shared everything, except that even eighteen-year-old Junhui could read him like a book.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You were so cute back then,” Junhui likes to tell him, “And you hadn’t learned how to lock up your feelings inside your heart.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They’ve gone through this song and dance more times than Minghao can count: he will say, “I don’t do that,” and Junhui will respond, “Okay, Xiaoba,” and Minghao will stew in the knowledge that Junhui is right about him, as he most often is.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You do have a friend here,” replies Minghao, “Are we not friends?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Junhui lets out an excited little noise that makes Minghao want to retract his words immediately. “Aiyo,” he croons, “Haohao says he’s my friend!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nevermind,” says Minghao. He rolls his eyes even though Junhui can't see it; it's the thought that counts. “We’re not friends and I’m never coming home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Junhui goes quiet on the other line. “When we filmed </span>
  <em>
    <span>chao yin zhan ji</span>
  </em>
  <span> you said you were happy to be home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minghao lets it hang between them: </span>
  <em>
    <span>it was only home because I was with you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He knows Junhui understands the weight of the words, even unspoken. Minghao is a filial son; he works hard so he can take care of his parents. A first son, an only child; this is his duty. Blood thicker than water and all that, except that even in his parents’ house he always finds himself turning to talk to someone who isn’t there. He longs for them like he longs for the sea, wants to be submerged in the feeling of belonging he’s only ever found with Seventeen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a burst of noise from Junhui’s side, and then a voice that can only belong to Kwon Sooonyoung: “Are you talking to Myungho? Hi Myungho-ya, we miss you! Are you making friends?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The moment is broken, little pieces swept aside to be reassembled later with careful hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Soonyoung, stop that, give me my phone back!" Soonyoung yells something in reply that Minghao can't quite make out.  "We do miss you, though," Junhui tells him quietly. Boat, sea, lighthouse. “Come home soon.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i've been trying to write for a svt fic fest forever so this is sooo exciting !! i'm. not happy with this but the important thing is that it's the first thing i've published in (checks watch) five months...</p><p>find me on twitter @sun8stars</p></blockquote></div></div>
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